Embers of a Fallen Empire
by ArcturusWolf
Summary: An isolationist stellar theocracy stands alone. The rest of the galaxy has fallen to the AI scourge. Unwilling to die quietly in the face of the abominable intelligences, they search the Shroud for a way to escape their fate. They have it - a GATE, powered by millions of flesh, blood and soul sacrifices. Can the dying embers of a fallen empire reignite in a world beyond the GATE?
1. 01 - The Great Journey

**_Journal of Lifesinger Aletheia, Auri'ilith Chapter of the Sisters of Sunlight. M31-995-7-15._**

_The days of judgement have finally come._

_Our home systems lay besieged by an enemy that the united galaxy has failed to stop._

_The stars burned with the flames of war for the better part of a century. Thousands of star systems, conquered. Hundreds of living garden worlds, extirpated to the last living creature, scoured to the living bones of the earth. Not to mention the countless brave souls who took to the warships in a vain attempt to defeat the Abominable Intelligence that took the galaxy by storm._

_Where were the supposedly endless hordes of the Irassian Concordat, whose warriors purportedly numbered as many as the grains of sand upon Auri'ilith itself? Cast down by the abominable synthetics that their decadent elite once saw as slaves to attend to their every whim. Their home planet turned to a giant, smoke-belching cesspit of machinery, built atop the graveyard of their fallen. Their colonies reduced to rubble within a scant six years; their proud fortresses laid low by orbital bombardment; their slave-run farms scorched clean by hunter-killer drones._

_Where were the titanic lifeforms of Yuhtaan, who boasted that their gargantuan vessels could crush entire fleets? It seemed that their continent-crushing cannons could do little when presented with millions upon millions of tiny targets, each delivering a single cyclonic torpedo capable of boring through a titan's armour. The symbol of their might, the pride and joy of their fleet – and dare I say, the very soul of their imperium – now lies in the heart of a star, driven there by a relentless swarm of enemies too small for its great gun to destroy. As were its smaller cousins, all destroyed in the same manner._

_The human Sol Republic, our most agreeable neighbour, fought long and hard. Their losses numbered in the billions of soldiers, both of land garrisons and of naval marines. Dozens of their own worlds were strip-mined bare to provide material for foundry-stations and shipyards. Systems in hyperlane junctions, once popular trade hubs, were heavily fortified to deny their relentless enemy access to the home systems. Even if those planets could hold out but for three years, it was considered to be a worthwhile delay. Alas, even with their sacrifice, the inexorable march of our abominable enemy continues. Leaving only scorched graveyard-worlds in their wake._

_How would one stop an enemy that requires neither food nor sleep, nor recreation, nor comfort? The Conclave of our most holy mother's church beseeched her for an answer for the last twenty years. Our leader, High Priestess Miria, has finally revealed a ritual that shall provide salvation, after a week of seclusion within the Shroud._

_One that is abhorrent to even think about, had we lived in better times._

_A blood ritual, involving seventy-two million simultaneous sacrifices of those gifted in peering into the Shroud's nebulous depths, in exchange for a gateway to another galaxy for about two minutes._

_Two minutes. For seventy-two million lives._

_She assured us that the gateway shall be large enough to fit a single battleship, if only just. I very nearly lost my composure and screamed at her for even thinking such sacrilege! Auri preached of mercy; of the value of life; of the wrongness of shedding blood for one's own gains! _

_Yet to my shame, I knew that in my mind what the High Priestess suggested was our species' only chance of survival. Even if in my heart, I truly believed that killing another living being was an action reprehensible beyond words._

_How I long for the simpler times, when a single death was a tragedy worthy of a lengthy funeral. _

_For the last ten years, every funeral that I have held was a massed one for hundreds, if not thousands, to be returned to the Great Mother simultaneously. Each one consisting of the bodies being hastily consecrated with their last rites, before throwing them into a furnace which scatters their ashes to the winds. I see in the grim faces of those attending that their hearts are now hardened towards loss. That death was just something normal and worthy of little more than a footnote on an insignificant administrative report._

_It rightly should be abhorrent to my mind to even entertain the thought of willingly sacrificing millions. Yet war appears to change all of us in ways that are decidedly unpleasant. If the sacrifice of seventy-two million would mean that a hundred thousand could have another chance, is it truly worth the stain on one's conscience? If the alternative of not doing so would very likely mean the end of all organic civilisations? A hundred years ago, if one had asked me that question, I would have ordered them to visit a mind healer, post-haste._

_Now?_

_I weep at the mere notion that the sacrifice of so many would soon be thought of as a mere statistic. Worse yet, a necessity for survival._

_It seems in this cruel universe, there was but one cardinal rule for those beyond the light of our Great Mother. One must either claim victory, or die, there being no middle ground._

_May Auri preserve us all through these dark times._

* * *

A single oversized battleship sat in orbit above Auri'ilith. Its golden, rounded hull, once studded with dozens of plasma projectors of various sizes, were now covered in cargo pods of various shapes and sizes. Hundreds of cargo shuttles ferried items onto the vessel: shipping containers crammed full of food; storage racks of refined alloys and processed mineral ingots; carefully packaged crates of consumer electronics and assorted creature comforts; seed banks of the most useful plants known to the galaxy. Ammunition magazines that once stored mountains of quick-discharge antimatter pods were now packed floor to ceiling with cryosleep pods, and coolant flushing systems had been replaced with oxygen scrubbers and water recyclers. Only the spinal-mounted particle lance had been left in place, and then only because it would have taken too much time to separate the gigantic weapon from the durasteel superstructure.

It galled Shipmistress Vel'ara that her ship – the _Eternal Dawn, _flagship of the Auri've Union – had been reduced to a mere armoured colony ship. Yet she could not dispute the necessity of such actions. Day by day, the dire reports from the front line showed that victory was an impossibility. The enemy was backed by the resources from the rest of the known galaxy. The last empire in the way of the Abominable Intelligence, the Sol Republic, had been glassed to oblivion six months ago. Its remaining fleets voluntarily submitted themselves to the Auri've Union in a desperate attempt to preserve the last bastion of organic life. Even then, the last remaining humans were perishing at an alarming rate on the front lines.

Not that the arachnid Irassians were doing much better. The ones that had unleashed the mechanical plague upon the galaxy were the first to perish. Only a few thousand remained of trillions, driven by vengeance into performing suicide strikes deep into the Abominable Intelligence's lines. And soon to be entirely extinct, courtesy of their creations that had doomed the galaxy in the first place.

Her thoughtful reverie was broken by the crackling of the comms terminal in front of her. "Shipmistress, the preparations are almost complete. Cargo bays seventeen through twenty are filled, pending final sealing. Our fellow brothers and sisters that will journey with us currently rest within cryosleep pods. Awaiting further instructions," spoke her adjutant.

"Send non-essential staff to their sleep pods. The less presence we have in The Shroud as we travel, the safer it shall be for all," replied Vel'ara. "Engineering, stand by for departure,"

"Your will be done, shipmistress. Auri'ilith spaceport is signalling that the docking clamps are unlocked, and travel lanes are clear to the stationary orbit at point seven-five. We are clear to depart on your orders,"

"Acknowledged. Perform final checks and prepare for departure in ten minutes. Recon fleet, standby in vanguard position,"

Standing up, Vel'ara could see the green and blue orb of Auri'ilith. Fluffy flecks of white drifted across its skies, seemingly oblivious to the galaxy-spanning scourge that was about to consume the planet. As serene when seen from the void as it were from the tranquil beaches that she had spent her childhood in. How she wished that it were possible for Auri to move her home to another galaxy; but the priesthood had mentioned that doing so would cost as much Auri've blood as to fill the oceans seven times over.

Of the billions of souls that lived in the planet, only two hundred thousand would come with them.

The last hope of a burning galaxy. To escape before the last embers of civilisation burned into ash as cold as stellar dust.

On the holotank on the bridge, she could see a live feed of the grand holotemple. Depictions of various animals and plants – testaments to Auri's glory – covered every square inch of the walls and ceilings in all the myriad vivid colours of nature. A temple that ordinarily brought joy to those who saw it, and a renewed zest for life that stood within its hallowed halls.

Yet the faces of the Auri've assembled within are filled with grim determination. Their vulpine ears flattened low to their skulls, and their three tails tucked tightly between their legs. Each gripped a ceremonial silver blade tightly in their hands. At the altar at the very head of the congregation, a priestess held her hand over an ornate silver chalice. Singing a quiet hymn, she slashed open her wrist and let her scarlet lifeblood fill the vessel.

"Great Mother, please hear our plea. The stars burn with the fires of the Abominable Intelligence, and your children cry for salvation. We beseech you to show us a path in our darkest hour, so that an ember of creation may yet live on,"

"Great Mother, hear our plea!" chanted the congregation.

"Life, death and rebirth. The Eternal Symphony of your magnificence and wisdom. Creation and destruction, in equal balance. Perfect in its simplicity and humbling in its equanimity. We plead for your intercession, Great Mother, for without your light we would not be able to survive the darkest of nights. The price of flesh and blood I shall willingly give of myself, so that others may see the glory of a new dawn,"

Holding up the chalice with her bloodied wrist, the priestess murmured a quiet prayer. Her eyes glowed with an inner silver flame. A flame that was soon mirrored by the white flames burning within the chalice.

"We offer of ourselves, our blood, spirit and flesh," intoned the rest of the congregation. In unison, they also slashed open a wrist, allowing their blood to fall like rain upon the polished marble floor.

"Praise be to Auri! Bask in her glorious incandescence!" cried out the priestess.

"Praise the sun! She who nurtures and brings forth life!"

"Praise be to Auri! May we embrace her warmth for all eternity!"

"Praise the sun! She who banishes the darkness!"

"Praise be to Auri! Let the life of this unworthy servant bring forth the dawn for others!"

"Praise the sun! May she accept this meagre offering!"

The holotank filled with a blinding white light, illuminating the entire bridge. Between the fingers shielding her eyes, Vel'ara could see that similar lights were burning in the centres of each major city on the planet. And then, as if on cue, a tear in the fabric of reality began to form before her eyes. A gash in space, rimmed by ethereal silver flames, through which unfamiliar stars could be seen.

"The portal! Engineering, disengage thrust limiters!" barked the shipmistress. "Go! All engineers, double time! Helm, set this ship into position! Recon fleet, advance!"

As the light corvettes sped through the portal, Vel'ara sneaked one last look at the holotank. The priestess – and in fact, all the congregation – were slumped over wherever they once stood. Their bodies were blazing with the same silver flames that formed the portal. Yet with every passing moment, the flames were growing steadily dimmer. The spirits of the fallen whispered in her ears; should the flames be extinguished, the portal would seal itself shut – separating the two planes of reality once more.

She shivered as the unpleasant mental image of the battleship being cleaved in half by a closing portal came to mind. "Redline the reactors, shunt all power to propulsion systems. We go through _now_!" shouted Vel'ara. The engineers' response caused the ship to shudder and shake in complaint as it swivelled and accelerated far too quickly for its massive frame. Radiation and thermal warnings popped up on her console, the immense energies coursing through the battleship nearly too much for its systems to handle.

With bated breath, she watched carefully as the bow of the ship entered the portal and through the other side. Proximity and radiation alarms blared as the bridge passed dangerously close to its edges. So close, in fact, that he was almost certain that the external LIDAR dome had brushed against it and very nearly melted off. Thermal readings were off the charts; if it were not for the shields, the ship's hull would have melted into slag in short order.

"Very good. We are nearly through. Come on, just a little further-"

A tremendous explosion rocked the ship, throwing the shipmistress to the floor. The lights flickered unsteadily, eventually switching off. Dull red illumination replaced bright white; the emergency lights had taken over. "Status report?" groaned Vel'ara.

"Aft decks ten through thirty-two are severely damaged. We've got hull breaches in at least a hundred different points," replied an ensign, whose fingers flew across the screen to dismiss the endless warnings. "Starboard zero-point reactors two through six are offline, with critical damage to core shielding and power extraction components. Reactor one is functioning at fifty percent capacity and is severely overloaded. Starboard coolant tanks are ruptured, and we're leaking atmosphere at a rapid rate. Bow manoeuvre thrusters are critically damaged by power surges. Our turning capabilities are greatly diminished,"

Vel'ara cursed under her breath. Mounting an EVA mission to repair the bow thrusters on a ship this size would take days, if not weeks. Even then, only if the scouting corvettes could somehow latch on and slow it down first – or if it came to it, somehow forcing a collision with a smaller asteroid to try and offload some momentum. "What about the colonists? Are they secure?"

"Colonist compartments are secure, only superficial damage detected,"

"Thank Auri for small mercies. Engineering, begin patching the hull breaches. Cut off power to thrusters and set shields to deflect any asteroids," the shipmistress sighed. It was not the best outcome, but at the very least the colonists were safe. "Status of the recon fleet?"

"All systems green," replied another voice. "Commander Ilia reporting. All corvettes standing by for further orders,"

"Begin scanning the local system for potential habitable planets and mineral sources. We'll need it to rebuild this ship – and to create a new home for our people,"

A new home for their people.

That task did not sound too daunting when the collective psyche of the rest of the Auri've people were backing this endeavour. When the mighty economy of a civilisation that had sailed among the stars for nearly thirty thousand years was behind you, along with gentle thoughts of encouragement that each person passed through the shroud, it was certainly easy to stand tall in the face of adversity. When the unspoken promise that should one fail, there would be a safe port to return home to fight another day, it was easy to remain calm and collected.

Without either of those, the true crushing magnitude of the task that lay before Shipmistress Vel'ara finally came crashing down on her shoulders.

She could not fail.

She will not fail.

The children of Auri must survive!

* * *

A/N:

Plot bunnies jumping up and down in my head. Must purge~

Reverse Gate here, where the Gate appears in space. The exodus fleet arrives about a hundred years before the events of Alnus Hill.


	2. 02 - Planetfall

It was often said that in times of great necessity, the first to die are morals.

And what greater necessity was there than to find a home and safe port in a completely foreign galaxy. Especially with a severely damaged capital ship carrying all the remaining people of an exiled species.

"I apologise, Shipmistress Vel'ara. But the astronavigation charts filled out by the recon fleet have returned that there are no other habitable worlds within the range you have specified," her adjutant said. Exhaustion was clear in her slurred voice, and Vel'ara could not blame her. All of the crew outside of the cryosleep pods had been awake for longer than thirty hours now, kept awake only by unhealthy doses of stimulants.

"You're absolutely certain? The recon group has not found any others?"

"Yes, shipmistress. Psionic scans have found no sign of life, sapient or otherwise, within a hundred light-years of this star system,"

"Other than the third planet? This one that we are orbiting now?"

"Other than the third planet. Furthermore, we have detected no planets with a dormant hydrosphere or reconstructible atmosphere within your specified search radius,"

Vel'ara sighed deeply and massaged her brow. Her ears twitched irritably. "Thank you, adjutant. Dismissed, and get yourself some rest,"

There was a brief moment of hesitation before the quiet reply. "...Understood, shipmistress,"

A flickering model of the planet in question hovered in the holotank on the ship's bridge. One enormous landmass existed on the world, with more of it on the northern hemisphere. A trail of islands great and small to its south formed a loose archipelago. Between the archipelago and the continent was a large ocean, whose dark blue appearance attested to its great depth. Bands of green, yellowish-tan and white indicated a balanced ecosystem.

It was not a world tailor-made by their progenitors. However, as far as worlds went, a continental ecosystem was far from the worst possible choice. After all, it could have been a scorching desert world like Irass, or a frozen iceball like Yuhtaan. The planet had low levels of atmospheric pollutants, consistent with non-industrialised ones that had not gone through a cataclysmic volcanic event or asteroid impact. All in all, it was a passable one for colonisation. Fixing the planet to suit their needs could be done in the future.

The presence of primitives on the world, however, presented a quandary.

The laws of the Auric Conclave were clear on the matter of primitive sapients. Evolution was to take place naturally, without interference, so that each species may have their chance to add to the colourful tapestry of life. "To uphold the law in the face of extinction is the height of foolishness. Though if we were to come as conquerors, we would be no better than those abominable Irassians," muttered the shipmistress as she examined the world more closely. "Surely there has to be a remote and uninhabited region someplace,"

* * *

Come the following day, however, Vel'ara threw up her hands in defeat. Even after eight hours of carefully going over the mapped planet with great care, she could not find a reasonable location to colonise. Most of the fertile lowlands had been settled already, with an iron age society seemingly dominating the others in the region. In heavily forested places, planetary scans indicate the presence of what seemed to be clusters of primitive hide tents. Rivers were plied by crude wooden boats in most places, still driven by simple square-rigged single-masted ships. On the ocean were larger seafaring vessels – still made of wood, but large enough to ply even deep waters.

In a makeshift meeting room that was once a war room, the most senior members of the Auri've remnants gathered. The shipmistress and her adjutant sat at the head of the electrum table. To her left was Lifesinger Aletheia, the cleric ordained to be the head of the Church of Auri in the new nation. Her regal silver vestments, adorned with various floral motifs in golden thread, clashed horribly with her matted hair and sweat-slicked face. On the other side of Aletheia was Quartermaster Clorin, who continued to feverishly tap away on his dataslate. A tanned, dark-haired general sat stiffly to the right of Vel'ara, accompanied by another silver-robed cleric whose leaf-shaped gold brooch identified her as a master bio-sage.

"I enjoy the water as much as any other Auri've does, but that doesn't mean that I want to live in or around the ocean. The depths are...unsettling," the shipmistress said. "River valleys would be nice, and flatlands could be acceptable, but those are already occupied by the primitives. We know too little about the tribals occupying the forests. The mountains are remote, and are unlikely to be disturbed by anyone, though farming would be difficult on such steep slopes and high altitudes. And let's not even get started about establishing enough suitable housing for two hundred thousand. Your thoughts?"

"It would be far better if we could settle in a more hospitable region than the mountains. A river valley should be ideal in providing water and arable land for our colonists," Clorin spoke, setting down his dataslate with a scowl.

That certainly got the attention of the others, in the room, who stared at the quartermaster incredulously. "That would not be acceptable, child. Though these are trying times, Auri rewards those who adhere to her commandments. Would you be so callous as to suggest that we conquer those less developed than us by force?" spoke Aletheia sternly, her kindly face frowning in disappointment. "Would you have us drag our name as low as the barbaric Irassians?"

Murmurs of disgust echoed about the room. "Nothing so extreme as that, your eminence," the quartermaster hastily corrected himself. "Perhaps we could guide them. We could raise them to be greater than they have ever been,"

"And in doing so, would you rob them of a future of their own making? Would you deprive the universe of what they shall be? That is unacceptable, child. Enough blood was spilled to send us on our way. We should not spill any more than we must,"

"My quartermaster may have misspoken, but I am sure that he meant well," Vel'ara said, glancing to the dataslate in Clorin's hands. "Would you explain the reason behind what you have just said?"

"We have two hundred thousand colonists and limited supplies in our cargo holds. If all our people were to awaken from cryosleep at once, we would have at most a year of food and water,"

"With rationing?"

Clorin nodded grimly, his ears flat against the top of his head. "With _strict_ rationing,"

"What if we did not bring our colonists out of cryosleep?"

"That would not be possible, shipmistress," answered Vel'ara's aide. "The damage to the starboard reactors has caused an overwhelming power surge, damaging the life support systems that are linked to the cryopods. Our engineers are currently working on a rotating shift to keep them active for as long as we can, but we estimate that complete systems failure will occur in twenty-three days,"

The priestess' expression morphed to disbelief – and then to sad resignation. "Must we truly do this? Could we not create a submarine habitat, as we have done on Telos III?"

"If we had an orbital fabrication plant and the requisite alloys, yes, we certainly could. But we have neither of those available,"

"Enough!" barked the general at the table, slamming her fist on the table. Her eyes were twitching in barely-suppressed anger. "Our people need a home, that much is true. I might be a member of the Dusk Legion, and blood already drenches my hands. If I must kill ten thousand primitives myself and damn myself further in Auri's sight to ensure that our species will survive, then I will gladly do so. But to think that the supposed best and brightest of our kind sit in a room bickering while there is an obvious solution that doesn't involve spilling blood? Are you wise elders or childish infants?!"

"Peace, Marin! Your harsh words are not necessary. We are among friends," Aletheia rebuked her. "What solution do you speak of?"

The tanned woman jabbed her finger toward the metal floor. "We might not have a planetary scalpel, but we have a particle lance. Cut the top of a mountain, or melt it down. There you have it, a suitable settlement location that is not already occupied and is remote,"

The gathered council members blinked once. Twice. And then collectively groaned as the sheer simplicity of the solution struck them.

"It seems...we have made a terrible oversight," sighed Vel'ara, who pointedly avoided Marin's glare.

"Yes. Yes you have, indeed," snarked the irate general.

* * *

The astronomers at Rondel were thoroughly perplexed. A debate had raged among the star-observing sages regarding the sudden appearance of the Red Star towards the east. At first observation, it had been but a dim spark in the sky, only visible in the dead of night. But over the course of three days, it had progressively grown brighter and brighter, like an ember that was being dutifully fanned by a hearth-slave. Now it was bright enough to be visible to the naked eye even during the middle of the day.

"It's a new star! Flare must have had a new child,"

"Foolish old man! Stars do not appear out of nowhere. Are you saying that the heavens are not perfect, and the gods made a mistake? The north star was there when our ancestors were alive; it still is here now; and it will always be there in the future. The heavens do not change as people do!"

"But if it's a star, why does it not move? It seems to remain still, only growing brighter,"

"Concerning. How about we send a rider east to find a better observation position? Perhaps we could send Sage Marius to the Imperial Capital?"

"A good idea—wait, do you see that?"

The Red Star glowed incredibly bright for the briefest of moments, and then a scarlet beam struck down from the heavens to the ground. "My eyes!" cried one of the astronomers who had been observing it through a seeing-glass. "I'm blind!"

"Is Flare fighting against the darkness?!"

"Gods spare us,"

One did not need to a seeing-glass to observe what the Red Star was doing then. The beam of light that joined the heavens and the ground remained very much visible in the sky; a brilliant pillar of red that tore apart the darkness of the night. It remained in place for four hours, growing ever brighter with every minute, until it finally stopped near dawn. When the sun finally rose above the horizon, they could see an immense plume of smoke rising high above the Dumas Mountains and far beyond.

"Send a message to our colleagues in Sadera immediately. We need to know what that was!"

* * *

"Controlled orbital bombardment. Never have I thought that I would ever witness one in person," quietly said Vel'ara.

"Tools of destruction can be used for creation as well, my child. After all, there is little difference between the effects of a mining plasma cutter and a particle cannon," replied the priestess. "The intent behind its use matters most,"

Nodding, the shipmistress looked towards the darkened viewport of the bridge. The spinal mounted cannon was discharging a constant low-powered particle beam that was rapidly grinding down one of the larger mountains in the mountain range, emitting clouds of vaporised rock high into the atmosphere. It would be highly visible by anything within that hemisphere on the planet, but the recon team sent down to investigate the site assured her that there were no settlements for hundreds of miles around. And even if someone sent scouts to investigate, they insisted that was highly unlikely that any of the primitive civilisations could scale a mountain that tall, surrounded by a nigh-impenetrable primeval forest.

Give the primitives a few hundred years, and they would surely forget about the events. And in that time, the children of Auri could surely have gathered enough resources to set off for the stars again to find a new home to call their own. Or perhaps even resculpt another planet to their own specifications, should the search be fruitless. Clean up the base that they had used, maybe triggering a controlled volcanic eruption to erase the evidence, and the natives would be none the wiser about the Auri've even being present.

Yes. Perhaps this could work.

* * *

A/N:

Patching a plothole pointed out by Dragonmaster. Kudos for spotting it!


End file.
